


Here's to Happiness

by Kookie_Monsta (TMPNMK)



Series: Comet feels [1]
Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Cuties, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Homosexuality, I love them so much, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Non-Canon Relationship, Re-upload, Sickening Fluff, but its sweet, sonyamarya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMPNMK/pseuds/Kookie_Monsta
Summary: Sonya and Mary, together and happy.





	1. Here's to Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known that the following story is a reupload. It was re uploaded with complete consent from the original author. They were going to orphan it so I decided to step in and adopt it. 
> 
> Every now and then they check in on their baby, so comments and kudos are appreciated.

\---

Sunday morning. And here was Sonya, lying in bed with one arm wrapped around a beautiful woman and the other thrown over her face to block out the sun that was now streaming in the window. As she lay, Sonya weighed her options. She could get up, or stay and watch the view. The view being Mary Bolkonsky, asleep with her eyes gently closed and lips curved in a sleepy smile.

Ever since Prince Bolkonsky's death, Mary had slowly loosened the tight cord of discipline wrapped around her, and (with Sonya's help) was beginning to open herself up bit by bit, day by day. Sonya had long since moved into the Bolkonsky's enormous house, trusting the servants not to notice the fact that they slept in the same room every night and resisting the urge to grab Mary's hand as they walked down the street, lest someone notice and shun them.

This morning, Sonya simply tightened her grip on Mary's waist and reached around to brush some of the hair out of her lover's eyes. Mary shifted a little, pushing back further into Sonya's side and mumbling a slur that sounded suspiciously like her name. Sonya smiled. Time to wake up. Kissing Mary's nose lightly, she reached to the soft bits of skin under her ribs where she knew her girlfriend was most ticklish and pinched.

The effect was instantaneous. Making a noise between a shout and a squeak, Mary jumped straight up, nearly falling off the bed. Her shock turned to indignation when she saw Sonya laughing behind her hand and grabbed a pillow, brandishing it threateningly.

“Is this how it’s going to be, Sonya Rostova? If so, you’re on.”

Sonya responded immediately, grabbing another pillow and holding it, a sinister smile creeping onto her usually innocent face.

“Try me.”

And Mary did. Lunging suddenly, she launched herself onto Sonya with surprising force and hit her over and over with the pillow until she begged for mercy. Satisfied, Mary leaned back and surveyed her position, straddling Sonya’s hips. Before she had time to think, there was a warm hand on the back of her neck and she was being pulled down for a kiss. She smiled into Sonya’s mouth, happy with the victory. Mary moaned a little bit as Sonya’s hands wandered from her neck to her hips, pulling their bodies closer together. Well, maybe breakfast could wait.

\---

Mary’s favorite time of day was the evening when she could sit on a couch in front of the fire with Sonya’s head in her lap, fingers gently combing through her long red hair. Sonya made a contented noise like a cat as Mary’s fingers lightly scratched her scalp, pulling one of her hands down to absentmindedly kiss it and wind her arms tighter around her girlfriend’s waist. These were some of the best times they had, curled around each other or under a blanket, watching the fire crackle.

Moscow could burn around them, but they’d be fine, two women illegally in love in a grand house in Bald Hills. It was perfect.

“You know what, Mary?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I know.” 

 

 


	2. Christmas in Bald Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis Christmas. Cuteness ensues.

\--

It was the first Christmas since Moscow had burned. It was also the first holiday season where Mary had someone to put up a Christmas tree and hang mistletoe with. Sonya. And of course, Sonya was going to get overly excited about the holiday season. Because, why wouldn’t she?

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Mary got in a sleigh and began the ride to a wooded area for the tree. The bitter cold also gave her an excuse to snuggle into Sonya’s side and stay there.

Picking the tree was not easy. This was a decision that (according to Sonya) required the checking of several points, which were then listed to Mary.

“First!” Sonya cried, giggling a little. “ The sturdiness of the tree is crucial. Second! Number of branches, a tree is no good if it’s sparse.” She counted on her fingers, searching for a third finger. Mary grabbed her hand, pressed it to her lips, and butted in, laughing.

“Third!” she said, imitating Sonya’s officiant air. “There must be a large space clear of branches near the ground, for lots of gifts.”

Sonya laughed, hand still linked with Mary’s.

\---

It took nearly three hours. But they found it. The perfect Christmas tree. After much mocking inspection and finger counting from Sonya, Mary produced a small knife from inside her shawl and knelt to cut the tree down, effectively getting a lot of mud on her dress and ignoring whatever comment Sonya made about how it would need to be taken off.

Sonya was not the only one who had changed since the death of Prince Bolkonsky. Through Mary’s adoring eyes, she had gone from a quiet, shy, compliant wisp of a girl to a confident, almost cocky woman. And Mary loved watching her transformation almost as much as she loved Sonya herself.

Piling the tree onto the sleigh, Mary nodded to the driver to take them home, wrapping her arm around Sonya’s slender frame and resting a head on her shoulder. Sonya smiled, pressing a light kiss to the top of Mary’s head before remembering that they were in public.

\---

To decorate the entirety of the enormous Bolkonsky household would have been an enormous undertaking, so Sonya and Mary settled for the just the rooms that they were actually going to use, namely the bedroom in the north wing and the sitting room across the hall. With the help of a couple servants, they trimmed the tree and cut out some of the lower branches to make room for gifts. Tinsel was added to the tree, and ornaments.

Sonya looked up from her work with ornaments, laughing to see Mary struggling to hang some mistletoe. Creeping slowly behind her girlfriend, she wrapped her arms around Mary’s waist, making her jump and drop the mistletoe. Sonya smiled.

“Need some help with that mistletoe?”

“Possibly.”

Still grinning, Sonya reached up easily to hang the mistletoe, never taking her eyes from Mary’s face. Then, there were lips against hers and she thanked the mistletoe for having such a lovely tradition.

\---

By Christmas Eve, both Sonya and Mary were spending much time bustling around, pretending to avoid each other and carrying wrapped parcels. Sonya had forewarned that her gift would not be something big, but Mary had kissed her nose, declared that love was the best gift of all, and then felt like a hopeless romantic, which was partially true.

That night, Mary hung two stockings on the mantle, before crawling into bed, wrapping her arms around Sonya, and presently dozing off, her last waking sense being the smell of her girlfriend’s skin, scrubbed clean and soft.

Christmas morning started about the way Christmas Eve ended, with two women curled up against each other. That is, until the smell of Christmas breakfast wafted to the bedroom and Mary realized that said breakfast would probably be delivered to them on a tray. Mary had half a mind to go to another bedroom and pretend that she and Sonya hadn’t slept together, but most of her didn’t even care anymore, as though she was too tired to try and cover up something as big as love.

They exchanged gifts in bed. Sonya got Mary a necklace, thin silver chain with a single shooting star that looked beautiful resting just between the ridges of her collarbone.

Mary got Sonya a book of sonnets, which she proceeded to read. Out loud. Dramatically, while Mary collapsed with laughter.

It was perfect.


	3. Popcorn and Propsals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonya proposes.

\--

Sonya Rostova has never been more scared in her life. For one thing, this is the first actual relationship that she’s been able to successfully sustain. Second of all, Mary is… beautiful. And amazing. And wonderful. And much too good for Sonya. And what is she says no? What if she laughs? Or worse, runs away and never speaks to Sonya again?

Deep breaths. Bringing her hand to finger the ring in her pocket, Sonya struggles to regain control over her anxiety, remembering how much she loves Mary. That’s reciprocated, right? It has to be.

It takes her nearly a month to plan the proposal. Knowing that Mary doesn’t care much for extravagance, she decides on a quiet evening at home. A bottle of wine, a Katherine Hepburn movie, and some popcorn (with lime and parmesan, because that’s how Mary likes it, and Sonya pretends to wrinkle her nose for the sake of drama but secretly finds it delicious), plus a lot of blankets to hide under.

It’s a Friday night, and Sonya ends her shift early to get to their apartment and prepare. She lights a couple of candles, wafting their pine-spruce smell around. The popcorn is just popping when she hears Mary’s key turning in the door. Rushing over, Sonya catches an unsuspecting Mary off guard, wraps an arm around her waist, and kisses her. Hard. Mary squeaks in surprise, but soon melts into Sonya’s arms, dropping her bag and wrapping her arms around Sonya’s neck, tangling in her hair. She pulls away for a moment, leaving their faces an inch apart.

“What was that for?” she says, resisting the urge to just forget everything and have Sonya right there, against the door. She pushes that thought out of her mind, shifting her legs awkwardly. Sonya laughs.

“I’m allowed to be in love with you, am I not?”

Mary smiles, pressing their foreheads together. This is why she loves Sonya.

Sonya, waking up extra early and bringing her a cup of tea at the crack of dawn. Sonya, grabbing her hand as they walk down the street and excitedly pointing out everything she sees. Sonya, kissing her at parties when no one is looking and pulling her off to bathrooms and abandoned closets when a social gathering is especially boring.

Mary sighs, idly scratching at the back of Sonya’s head while arms wrap tighter around her waist. They stand there for God knows how long in silence, just staring at each other in wonder, until Sonya snaps her head up excitedly, starting to pull Mary farther back into the apartment.

“Come on! I have things planned.”

She grabs her lover by the hand, leading them towards the living room where the familiar strains of “Holiday” are playing as film snips of Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn float across the TV screen. Sonya uncorks the wine, pouring two generous glasses and handing one to Mary before curling up into her girlfriend’s side, smiling as she feels slender fingers begin to massage the back of her neck and the bottom of her scalp.

All, in all, they end up missing some of the movie. But when Mary’s lips are on hers and there are hands teasing the hem of her shirt, Sonya doesn’t really care. But then she makes a mistake. With one hand wrapped around Mary’s waist and the other gripping her thigh, Sonya breathes, “will you marry me?”

Mary pulls back immediately, a look of shock on her face.

“What did you just say?”

Sonya flushes.

“I said, you’re beautiful. You’re smart, you make me laugh, and you’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

A small smile crept onto Mary’s face.

“In that case, I’d like to very much.”

Sonya slips the ring out of her pocket and slides it on Mary’s finger, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She looks up, and Mary notices.

“Oh, Sonyushka.” she says, bringing a hand to wipe the tears from Sonya’s face. “Don’t cry. We’re going to be so happy, you and me. Married.” Sonya leans into her touch, taking her wrist and kissing the inside of her palm.

“That’s kinda the point.”

\--

The wedding isn’t for another month, but to Sonya it seems like a year. All of their friends come, including Natasha, who cries through the whole service, leaning on Pierre’s shoulder.

Mary, for one, doesn’t try to stop her tears from the moment she sees Sonya walking up the aisle toward her, on the arm of Marya Dmitrievna. She’s wearing a beautiful white dress, all lace and flowers and intricate stitching. She beams at Mary the entire time the pastor is talking, eyes shining. Sonya barely hears anything he says, mindlessly repeating the long phrases. It’s only when he says “you may now kiss the bride” that Sonya starts paying attention. She threads an arm around Mary’s waist, pulling her in for a kiss that probably lasts a little too long. Does she care? No. Because Sonya’s married to the love of her life, and nothing else matters. No one else matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyy my girls got married! If you liked this chapter please leave a kudos,comment, or both.  
> \-- more coming soon!


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